


The Fox and the Mist

by NMartin



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, foxxay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMartin/pseuds/NMartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 3rd season of AHS, this fic tells the story of Cordelia Foxx and Misty Day, two innocent women who accidentally fell in love in the middle of a magical war, bitchy witches and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

Cordelia was in her bedroom when the memories started flooding her mind, making her fall asleep. In her dreams, she was still in her bedroom, a beautiful, small and comfortable space that she had loved since the day she had arrived to Mrs. Robichaux’s. A ray of light illuminated the room and her bed was already made, a black and white dress laying on it. A pair of shoes was carefully arranged on the floor.

_Every rose has its thorn, just like every night has its dawn._

_Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song._

_Every rose has its thorn._

The voice came from the bathroom, a soft whisper between the rushes that were happening outside of the bedroom. She remembered that day, of course. It was her first day at the academy. Her mother had just dropped her there, dressed in some kind of grey dress. She remembered that she had cried for hours. When she arrived there, Aunt Myrtle had told her to shower before meeting the rest of the girls. All of them were willing to meet the Supreme’s daughter, Cordelia Goode, whispering and trying to guess what skills she would have, what kind of jewels she liked to wear or if she was as deadly as her mother was. All of them seemed to think that she had had the most wonderful childhood, a teenage girl surrounded by luxury, pretty dresses and money.

But they were so wrong. Cordelia couldn’t be more different than her mother. While the eldest woman was hell in high heels, little Delia was as sweet as an angel. While her mother had deadly skills, she only could make potions. Everyone knew that green magic wasn’t as deadly as essential drain or pyrokinesis, and she was the only student to not have a powerful skill. The sound of water falling had stopped minutes ago, and the bathroom door had opened. A younger self appeared through the door, her thin body covered with a towel despite the fact of already having her underwear on. Her wet hair fell on her shoulders and the towel fell to the floor. Cordelia looked at her younger self, thinking about how happy she had been when she arrived there. She felt useful, she felt free. The young witch reached out to take the dress, her hand trespassing her older self’s body as if she was a ghost.

The scene changed. This time there was no younger self. It was her mother in the kitchen, yelling at her.

"You can’t help me," she had said. "You can’t help anyone. You’re worthless. Hopeless."

Now it was Aunt Myrtle who was opposite to her, playing that stupid instrument.

“Your salad dressing is absolutely magic, maybe you could bottle it. _Cordelia’s Conjured Coriander Condiment._ Or if you’d like a little getaway, maybe a job as a hostess on a cruise ship. You’ve got a lovely personality and you’re always well-groomed.”

She dissipated, and Queenie started talking to her now.

“Don’t touch me. No offense, but since I left one witch is dead and another one is missing. You’re just as weak as you’ve ever been. You might wanna take one long-ass vacation. Let somebody else run this joinder for a while. Now get out. Now!”

* * *

 

She opened her eyes, the only thing that she could think of was of how every single witch of the coven seemed to despise her, with the exception of some students and Misty. Misty was a good person, and had been the only one who had cared about her the first time she had lost her sight, from the first day they met.

* * *

 

Cordelia walked to where Zoe seemed to be talking to someone. It was a witch seeking safety, who tried to run away from someone. Cordelia extended her hand, and then they had touched. Unlike her other visions, Misty Day’s touch seemed to make something run through her fingers and travel through her body. It was a white light, a light that fueled the blood in her veins, a light that seemed to awake her rotten heart. An unspoken bond seemed to have been made, and none of them wanted to break it. The next days, Misty had cared of bringing her tea and helped her with the housework, probably wanting to make a good impression. Misty’s room was next to Cordelia’s, and the blind woman could hear Stevie Nicks singing for hours. She knew why, she had seen Misty dancing in her vision. It had been two days after Misty’s arrival when it had happened.

* * *

 

Cordelia was sitting in her bed, wearing a black dress. Her hands where on her lap, and her cane was next to the bed, waiting for her to get up and use it. The curtains were closed, the darkness filled the room. She heard someone knock on the door. For a moment she thought it was Fiona, coming with her black, expensive dresses, her jewels and her high heels to humiliate her as she always did. Or maybe it was some random student taking pity on her. Cordelia did not answer. The sound was repeated and the witch's lips tightened, until she heard a sweet, soft voice.

“Miss Cordelia?” said a voice from the other side of the door. “It's Misty. Can I come in? I've made some tea, and I thought you might wanna have a cup.”

Misty. Of course she could come in, she was the only one, along with Aunt Myrtle, who Cordelia wanted to enter the room. Misty had been her greatest support since she had appeared in the school. When the younger witch opened the door and entered Cordelia's room, the blind woman felt better. She felt warm, she felt safe. And, for the first time in forever, she felt alive. And those were strange feelings for her.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Misty said. “Whoa, this is very dark.”

“Please don't open the-” she said, but Misty had already opened the curtains. “Nevermind.”

“How are you today?”

“I've been better. Where's the teacup?” the headmistress asked, palpating the bedside table in a search for the cup.

“It's downstairs. It seems that all the girls are out, and I thought you-”

“I'm not going to leave my room today.”

“Miss Cordelia...”

“Call me Cordelia, please.”

“Can I call you Delia?”

“No. My mother calls me that.” was all the explanation she gave her.

“Cordelia, I think you should try to go outside more often. Since I came, you only go to the green room or the kitchen, and then you come back here. And if you stay somewhere else of the house, it's because something has happened, and I don't want to see you like this.”

“Misty, I really don't want to go outside.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone feels pity for me. Everyone thinks that I'm useless, that I'm a burden.”

“I don't think you're a burden.” Misty said, sitting next to the woman.

“But you still pity me.”

“No, Cordelia. I don't pity you. Why would I? I can understand what you feel.”

“What?”

Misty grabbed the woman's soft hands, covered with black gloves. Both of them had been alone all their lives, Cordelia in a house full of girls and Misty in the middle of nowhere, until Zoe had found her. Everyone used to treat Misty in a strange way, asking her for favors and never returning them. But Cordelia was different. After a life time of loneliness and seeking refuge in Stevie's songs, Cordelia had offered her a room to stay in the academy. Cordelia had told her that she would be safe there, that no one would try to hurt her. And even if the headmistress was wrong about that, Misty trusted her.

“I think that you feel underrated, because no one seems to think that your skill is powerful. I think that you feel lonely, because people use to exclude you. I think that you have never felt loved, because your mother is not what people should call a mother, and your husband...” Misty stopped talking. Cordelia was looking to her lap, some tears falling through her face. “Oh. I-I-I... I'm sorry. Please… Please don’t cry.” The guilt of bringing the other woman to tears was making her cry too. Misty released the woman's hands and quickly went to hug her, trying to not to make skin-to-skin contact. Cordelia still hadn’t achieved the full control of her new sight at that moment, and Misty didn’t want to cause another painful vision to the woman. After some minutes, they separated. Misty grabbed her precious shawl and wiped the woman’s tears with it, only to fold it and leaving it next to them. Misty wanted to stroke the woman’s face so badly it hurt. Cordelia lifted her hands and cupped Misty's face in them.

“I won’t cry anymore.”


	2. Dawn

With Misty still on her mind, Cordelia looked at the clock and realized that she had been asleep for an hour. She got up, thinking about all the times she had been underestimated, the memories flooding her mind. All of them had the same effect on her, and the only thing that she thought at that moment is that she wanted to die. Cordelia couldn’t bare it anymore; she wanted to jump into a pool full of blessed water; she wanted to slit her wrists; she wanted to burn in a fire, just like Myrtle had. But she couldn’t do that, or she would be agreeing that she was useless. Would anyone mourn her? The students? Myrtle? Her mother? Oh, that witch wouldn’t mourn, that was clear. Life in the academy had been turning into hell since the day Fiona had dropped her there, and it was even worse now that Fiona was there. All the young witches of the academy thought that Fiona was a good role model, they wanted to be as dangerous and powerful as her. But Cordelia knew that her mother just wanted to kill her successor, one of those girls. Fiona only cared about living as the eternal Supreme she thought she was. She didn’t care about anyone else; she had never cared about anyone else. All those fake attempts to build a relationship with her daughter were just an excuse, because, after all, the fucking woman didn’t want to die alone. Being an undesired person hurt, Cordelia knew that too. Her mother had taken care of reminding her almost every day of her life. And, despite loving her mother a little, Cordelia couldn’t wait to see her die alone. Her mind expulsed those thoughts off her mind and focused on the soft music that she could hear from the next room. Misty. The sweet Misty. Cordelia’s bad memories disappeared when she thought of the blonde woman, when she thought about her face, her eyes, her lips. _Oh, her lips._ How she wanted to feel them on hers. It was a truth, Cordelia felt with Misty things that she had never felt with Hank, or even with the lovers that came before him. She was the light that guided her, her north star in a world of darkness. She walked out of the room and stood by Misty’s door. She opened the door slightly. Misty was in the middle of the room, spinning around and singing along to Stevie.

_And the days go by like a strand in the wind_

_In the web that is my own I begin again_

_Said to my friend: Baby,_

_Nothin' else mattered._

She was dressed with a dark green dress and a shawl with a flowered pattern on it. She looked like an angel, Cordelia thought.

“Miss Cordelia! Come in, dance with me.” she said, grabbing Cordelia’s hands and dragging her to the center of the room.

“I already told you that you can call me Cordelia.” she said, looking at their hands. They started dancing again. The headmistress tried to imitate Misty’s happy, rhythmic movements, but failed miserably. Feeling awkward, Cordelia stopped dancing and tried to seat on the only chair of the room, but she was stopped by the other woman.

 “Oh, I know.” Misty said. “But I won’t call you that.”

“Why?”

“But the moment that I first laid, eyes on you. All alone... on the edge of… seventeen.” Misty sung softly, following the lyrics of the song. She did not trust her voice at the time, but was too nervous to not to sing and the same time. Ever since she had arrived to the house, she and Miss Cordelia had started to spend hours on the greenhouse, taking care of the plants and making potions together while listening to Stevie’s songs. Cordelia had taught her lots of things about potions and plants, while Misty had taught her the meaning of Stevie’s songs. And even if everyone thought that Cordelia’s skill was weak, Misty saw it as a wonderful and interesting thing. She liked to be with Cordelia, it didn’t matter where or what they were doing. Their exchanged smiles were becoming their way to say _I love you,_ even though none of them realized it. Cordelia raised a hand to stroke Misty’s cheek and closed her eyes. She felt the swamp witch’s hand caressing her own ones, a simple touch that made her feel special. Cordelia opened her eyes again and found Misty’s gaze. Their noses almost touched; their breaths melted in one. She was looking at her mismatched eyes with admiration. That woman had made more effect in her in a few hours than anyone had made in years. They were close, dangerously close. Cordelia was about to break the small air gap that was left between them when someone knocked loudly on the door. Madison, standing in the other side of the door, said with her usual bitchy tone:

“Hey _lesbos_ , when you two are finished, come to the living room. Fiona is here again, bitches. And she’s got someone with her.”

Both women looked at each other awkwardly. Their foreheads still touched, both of them breathed quickly.

“We don’t have to go.” Cordelia whispered, still holding the necromancer’s hands. _Why now mother? Why does she always have to screw my happiness? I just wanted to be with Misty. She has been my only support after everything Fiona did to me, after everything she said. She has been the only one to not despise me. I just wanted to touch her, to hug her, to feel her lips on mine, to… feel something, for once in my lifetime. But no, Madame Supreme has to screw it all._

“Cordelia, I…”

“Hello, did you hear me? Get your fucking asses down there.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Cordelia sighed before opening the door and quitting the room. Misty turned off the music player, interrupting the next song. Misty was completely in awe at how perfect it all had felt until that old woman ruined it. She had imagined that moment since she had met Cordelia, she had imagined all the ways she could have kissed her and made her happy. She wished for something to happen between them, and now the Supreme woman had crushed the moment. She got angry with the world for some seconds, but relaxed after seeing the shawl that was on her bed. Cordelia had gave it to her the day she had recovered her sight, when she had realized that the necromancer only had two or three dresses to wear. It was black, and had a wonderful flowered pattern on it. Even though it looked like the others she had, it meant much more. No one had ever done that, giving her something. Never. It was Cordelia’s gift. Her sweet Cordelia. Her protector, the only one who had never felt horror of her skills and hadn’t questioned her good soul. The one who had made her heart burn in a strange way, in a way that she would have imagined her heart would feel. _Oh, how she loved her Miss Cordelia._


	3. Day

_Don't explain, just lay back and watch the rain_

_'Cause darling I'm right here and nothing's changed_

_Don't you know by now, I would not even know how_

_To keep myself from falling for you, I'll be around_

It was sunset when Misty started singing one of Stevie’s songs. The blonde woman was used to sing it while walking through the swamp, but now it had a bigger meaning, a meaning that she had never imagined that would flood her veins. She was walking around the greenhouse, watering the flowers and resurrecting the dead ones, while Cordelia, focused on finishing her cayenne potion, was chopping flower petals and different herbs. She did not realize that Misty, her beloved Misty, couldn’t take her eyes off her. The woman was wearing an ivory blouse that made a perfect contrast with her black pants. A golden belt and old-styled, big glasses completed her look, making her look like one of those ladies that took care of the libraries and stayed there organizing the books.

“What’s this potion for?” Misty asked the woman.

“It’s a cayenne potion. It’s used to relieve the pain and treating fevers. It also helps to recover after a heart attack.” Cordelia told her, still focused on the potion. She approached one of the cupboards and got a small bottle from it. Her behavior was different that day, Misty noticed. She hadn’t talked to her after all the witches had met in the living room. They had talked about the witch hunter attacks. Cordelia’s mother, had humiliated her daughter again, telling her that it was her fault, that if she hadn’t married that Hank all of that wouldn’t have happened. The next thing Misty remembered was going upstairs and going to sleep, using Cordelia’s shawl as a blanket. Cordelia, pulling up the blouse’s sleeves, had leaned on the table and was about to pour half of the bottle’s content, a red, dense liquid, on the bowl where the chopped herbs were.

“Misty, please, can you hand me one of the hair ties? I don’t want to stain my hair. They are on that drawer.” she said, pulling her hair back. Those were the first words that she had said to the necromancer after talking with her mother last night.

* * *

It was midnight, everyone else was sleeping. After the witches meeting, everyone had returned to their businesses, except for Cordelia. She had stayed on the kitchen all afternoon, a cup of coffee in her hands while thinking of the information they had received. There had been another attack. Hank was dead, Queenie was alive. Marie Laveau and Fiona now were allies. The fact of having so much to process made her head burn. It was almost midnight when Fiona appeared through the door.

“How lovely to see you here, Delia.” she said with sarcasm. “We need to talk.”

“Not now, mother.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t discover it? Do you think that I’m as foolish as you? I have my sources, Delia.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The swamp witch.”

“Mother, please…”

"No. Don’t call me that. You’re not my daughter anymore, you never were. You are just a useless disgrace" Fiona had said, a hateful look in her eyes. “I am the Supreme of this coven, how do you dare to laugh at my face. How do you dare to defy me again.”

“Mother, I…”

“SHUT UP! You ran away with that disgrace of a man, a man who never loved you, who lied to you and tried to kill us, and now you fall in love with that woman? You’re such a fool, you’re disgusting. You, little-miss-headmistress-Cordelia-Foxx, the woman who claims to want to protect the coven, the one who insists of sheltering young idiotic girls like you. You are the one who puts this coven in danger, being such a naïve and ignorant girl. Don’t you see, imbecile? She just wants to destroy this coven, to destroy me, to destroy you. She will betray your trust. She doesn’t love y-”

“Enough, mother.” Cordelia muttered between her teeth. A feeling of anger travelled through her body, as if she was a bomb about to explode.

“What did you just say?”

“ENOUGH!” Cordelia had yelled. Her mother didn’t doubt to make the younger woman fly through the room, but she didn’t feel almost any pain. She was used to that. Standing up again, she started talking again. “I have had enough with you. Ever since you came here, ever since you put a foot in this house, everything has been complete hell since you arrived. Instead of letting another Supreme raise, you’re killing innocent girls, hoping that one of them is the Supreme who’s tearing your health apart. What you don’t seem to realize, mother, is that you’re the one this coven needs to get rid of. She’s not the evil one, you are. You’re the one who is destroying this coven. And I don’t care what you think of Misty, I don’t care what you think of me. I love her, and I don’t need your approval to be with her. I don’t need you at all. The only thing I want from you is to watch you die slow and painfully, with no one who prays for you.”

* * *

“There are no hair ties here, Cordelia.” Misty said after checking the drawer. The blonde woman had left the bottle on the table, her hands where trembling. “Cordelia. Cordelia!” she quickly approached the woman, almost running to her. The headmistress was looking nowhere. “Cordelia, are you okay?” She put herself in front of her, cupping her face with her hand and putting the other one on the woman’s forehead. “God, you’re burning. Cordelia, can you hear me? Cordelia!” A single tear started falling through the woman’s face. “Cordelia, dear, what’s happening?”

“I…” the woman managed to say. She wiped the tear from her face with her hand and softly pushed the woman aside. “I was just thinking about my mother. That’s all.”

“You were crying, Cordelia. What happened?” Misty asked. She did everything to make the love of her life happy, but that woman always managed to ruin it. “Oh my God, did she do something to you? Did she hurt you?”

“Yes. She… We had an argument yesterday, after all of you went to bed.” Cordelia said, putting the bottle aside and sitting on the table. She put her hands on her lap, looking at them with a feeling of guilt and shame.

“What? What happened?” she asked again, grabbing the woman’s hands and caressing them. Cordelia had started to cry again.

“She… she knows...” Cordelia said, looking at Misty’s eyes. “Well, about us. She thinks that you want to destroy this coven. She said horrible things about you. She told me that you…” she couldn’t resist it anymore, she started sobbing. “She told me that you don’t love me.”

“Cordelia. My Miss Cordelia. I do love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you.”

Misty’s words hit the blonde woman like a tsunami. She gasped, her eyes widened. She didn’t know what to do, she felt paralyzed. She hadn’t tried to hide her love for the swamp witch, but she wasn’t sure that Misty felt the same way. The other day’s almost kiss could have been the heat of the moment. But now she was in front of her, crying because someone had told her that she didn’t love her. Misty, in an moment of braveness, let the woman’s hands go and stood up, cupping Cordelia’s face and making look up to her eyes. Both of them got lost in each other’s gaze, mismatched eyes on a sea of blue, until Misty leaned forward and captured her lips with Cordelia’s in a sweet dance that both had always wanted to perform. The contact of Misty’s lips was soft and careful but passionate at the same time, and what started as a little flame became a bright, burning fire inside of them. They didn’t bother that someone could enter the room, since Cordelia always locked the door of the greenhouse when making potions. Misty’s hands slid into Cordelia’s hair as Cordelia’s searched out Misty’s hips. They started getting rid of their clothing. Even though the air was cold, their hearts could not feel warmer.

 _God, I know that I’ve been asking you for favors all my life,_ Cordelia thought, _but please, just for once, let me stay with her. I was right._ Misty’s kisses lowered to her neck, kissing a sweet spot that made her moan. The necromancer’s hands and kisses caressed every single inch of the headmistress body. Their underwear was long gone now. _She loves me. And there’s nothing anyone can do to tear us apart._

And there, surrounded by green plants and colorful flowers, they made love for hours, not knowing what death was coming to get them.


	4. Night

_When I think about you_

_I think about how much I_

_Can't wait to hear the sound_

_Of your laughter_

_Time and distance never matter_

Cordelia was convinced she didn't have a second sight before talking to her mother. Even though she had finally convinced Madison to let her touch her, she had seen nothing. Nothing. And that was the only way to find the person that mattered most to her. Misty. Her sweet Misty. For what Madison had said to the girls, the swamp witch had left the coven and returned to her old house, but Cordelia knew that wasn't true. Misty would never leave her, and if she did, she would have said goodbye. That the only thing Cordelia was sure of, but not the only Cordelia had to worry about. Fiona, in some kind of evil and diabolical plan, had established that Queenie would perform the Seven Wonders. But worse of all, she had started feeling emotional with her daughter.

_“_ _Maybe we could be kind to one another for a change, uh? My God, look at you. My beautiful little girl. Did you really think self-mutilation would restore your power? You cannot lose your power, you never will. It's inside of you. And it is not something I gave to you. As much as I'd like to, I cannot take credit for that. It's all you.”_

Her mother was saying goodbye. She had given her grandmother's necklace. The one that meant so much to Fiona. She had given it to her. Was that some sort of consolation prize for having blinded herself unnecessarily or was another trick from Fiona. After all, she had had that vision when her mother put the necklace around her neck. All the corpses of the witches, distributed through the house. Madison, Zoe, Misty, Queenie. Herself. Fiona snatching the necklace from Cordelia's dead body. She had finally solved the puzzle. Fiona was going to kill every potential supreme, including Cordelia. The necklace was her mother's way to say goodbye to her daughter. Goodbye before killing her, unusually emotional coming from Fiona.

* * *

Misty opened her eyes, making a gasp. She was in total darkness, laying face down on a soft surface. She repositioned her body. She was in some kind of box,  Her head started hurting a lot, as if someone had hit her with something. She could feel some kind of liquid in the back of her head. Blood. Had she been attacked? She didn't know. She couldn't remember anything except for talking to a blonde woman.  _The old woman... Uh... Fiona? No, I haven't talked with her. The one that had brought that boy to the swamp, Zoe? Or the one that was always talking shit 'bout Cordelia? Cordelia._ She remembered her clearly.  _Cordelia. Please, I need you. Madison has tried to kill me. Please help me, Cordelia. Please._ Tears started falling through her face. Landslide's lyrics came to her mind, and her voice, soft and broken started murmuring them, in hopes that someone would hear.

* * *

 

If her mother was right, Cordelia hadn't lost her second sight after all. With Misty's belongings spread around her, she tried to see something that could help her find the woman, something that gave her a hint of where should she start searching. A little voice inside her head murmured something quietly.

_And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_'Till the landslide brought me down_

_Oh mirror in the sky, what is love?_

When her mother had touched her, she had realized that her second vision only worked with close relationships. _That’s why I didn’t see anything when I touched Madison. We don’t have a close relationship, we actually despise each other. But it can be because I already knew she was guilty? Nevermind. The Axeman, I played with his mind. That’s kind of a close relationship, at least technically. And Fiona. She wasn’t lying when she was saying goodbye._ She grabbed Misty’s dress and brought it close to her. _This dress… Was Misty wearing this one when we kissed for the first time?_ Cordelia didn’t know. She had grabbed the only dress that hung in Misty’s closet. The voice’s volume increased, making Cordelia realize that it was one of Stevie's songs. _Landslide._ She quickly identified the voice as Misty's, although she didn’t sound as joyful as she used to be. In fact, the notes were dry and desperate. A blurry image appeared in her mind. Misty was in a dark place, singing those bittersweet notes.

“I see you. I see you, where are you?”

She grabbed another item. This time, it wasn’t a blurred image what she saw in her head, it was Deville’s cemetery sign. She had been there for Nan’s funeral the other day. Right after Misty had disappeared. She had to go there, but she needed help. She thought about Myrtle, but the old woman would tell her to go in the morning and she didn’t have time. Madison wouldn’t help, Nan wasn’t an option anymore, Zoe had run away. The headmistress stood up and headed to Queenie’s room, in hopes that she would be there.

“Queenie, wake up.” she said.

“For fuck’s sake, Cordelia, it’s three in the morning! Let me sleep.”

“Queenie, wake up. We’re going to the cemetery.”

“Uh, what?”

“I’ll explain when we’re on our way.”

* * *

Misty had closed her eyes less than an hour before. Her tears were already dry, the oxygen had disappeared. She had struggled to breath for hours, the lack of oxygen knocking her out every time she dared to try to breathe. Now she was back in the swamp, dancing to Stevie, just like she had done for so many years. But this time she wasn’t alone. Cordelia was sitting in the bed, reading a book while stroking her belly. She couldn’t dance in her state, so she sat and enjoyed watching the necromancer sing and move around the room. They lived in a small wooden house surrounded by a beautiful landscape, they had left behind the coven and its horrors and they were going to be a family. It felt like paradise for both of them, until two hands came out of the darkness and pulled Misty into it. She opened her eyes, breathing heavily. She was sitting in a coffin, the fresh air flooding her lungs and making her cough. The moonlight bathed the place, two figures next to the coffin. One of them was short and thick, with dark skin, while the other one was tall and had blonde hair and ivory skin.

“Cordelia, you’ve found me.” the necromancer gasped, both of them completely ignoring Queenie.

“I will always find you.” the headmistress said, touching Misty’s cheek.  The headmistress was wearing her sunglasses again and was standing with her cane in her hand. It took Misty a few seconds to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Misty approached the blind woman carefully, standing in front of her and grabbing her hand. The headmistress didn’t see anything this time. After all, there was nothing more to see. The swamp witch had showed herself crystal clear to the headmistress. Her lips melted with Misty’s in a sweet kiss that lasted for a whole minute. “I should have known that something was wrong. I should have known that. I’m sorry, Misty. _My Misty._ You’re safe.” she whispered, putting her arms around the other woman and hugging her.

“Well, this has been sufficiently awkward. Are we going to the house now or can I go and get some rest in the car?”

Cordelia laughed and looked at Misty. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll talk later.”

“Yeah… _talk_.” Misty said with a smirk, still holding the woman’s hand.


	5. Morning

It was Saturday morning and Cordelia was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper dressed in her white, long-sleeve nightgown. She obviously couldn’t see anything, but in the last night she had done great discoveries. For what she had been practicing, she was now able to see images on her mind by touching things. And touching people, for what she had discovered last night with Misty. The girls, including the swamp witch, were now preparing themselves to perform the Seven Wonders, each one locked in a different room of the house for their safety. Myrtle had said that the rules stated that none of them could talk to each other, but Cordelia knew that Myrtle had made up that rule only to make sure that they would not kill each other before Sunday night. _She might be crazy, but I have to admit that she always has the best ideas._ She read the headline.

> _GROUP OF BUSINESSMEN FOUND DEAD IN OFFICE._
> 
> _Harrison Renard and his business associates were found dead yesterday, brutally murdered in a centric office of the city. The leaders of Delphi Trust, one of New Orleans biggest corporations, were in a meeting when the suspect, a tall, white man of approximately fifty years old, interrupted the meeting and sliced the men’s necks. The police department suspects that the weapon might be a big knife or even an axe._
> 
> _The man, whose identity still remains unknown, is still missing. He was last seen in company of a white, middle-aged woman and the owner of a hair salon of the city, a forty years old woman of color. Both of them are missing. Police speculates on a possible kidnapping/murder. The victims…_

_Oh God, if only they knew,_ Cordelia thought.There had been a little bit more than twenty four hours and half of the city was already looking for the “Delphi Trust killer”, a mysterious man who had appeared and disappeared like a ghost. Cordelia rolled her eyes. Her mother had caused trouble even after dying, for God’s sake. She stood up and walked to the hall, jumping over the pool of blood that still was on the floor. She hadn’t even bothered to clean it; after all, she had done enough by getting rid of the Axeman’s corpse. After spending so many weeks tolerating her mother’s presence at the academy, she had finally assumed a couldn’t-care-less position about murder. What a shame that every witch that was a serial killer was now dead. She took another sip of coffee. Her messy hair fell on her shoulders, her lack of sleep clearly showing.

_I probably look like shit,_ she thought. _It’s funny how I can see things by touching them but I don’t fucking know how I look anymore. Thank God I have Misty._

* * *

Misty’s tension had been released when she had found herself alone in the bedroom with Cordelia, who had just returned of throwing the Axeman’s corpse in the same in the same swamp where he had thrown her mother’s. The woman, who was wearing her big sunglasses, still had her gloves stained with the man’s blood when she entered the room.

“Misty?” she whispered.

“I’m here, Dee.” Misty had answered with a drowsy voice.

“Dee? Are you going to call me that now?” A smirk appeared in Cordelia’s face.

“You don’t like it?” Misty said, getting out of the bed and approaching to the woman.

“I love it.” she said with a laugh, feeling Misty’s hands grabbing hers and bringing her close. She instantly could see the witch’s face, her genuine smile, her soft blonde hair, and her beautiful eyes. Cordelia gasped, surprised by the fact that she could see her, at least in her mind. Her sight wasn't only to see the past, she could see how Misty looked at that moment. Words couldn’t describe how beautiful Misty looked to her, with her clean, messy hair and her nightgown on. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Misty whispered before melting her lips with Cordelia’s. She admitted it, the bittersweet taste of Cordelia’s lips was like a drug to her. They were standing in the center of the room, only lightened by a small lamp, the headmistress’ hands playing with Misty’s hair now while the other woman caressed her hips. Misty heard the woman laugh. “What?” Misty said, leaning backwards and looking to the woman’s face.

“You totally kicked Madison’s ass.” Cordelia said, staring at the place she knew the swamp witch's eyes were located.

“Yeah, that bitch had it coming.” Misty answered, pulling Cordelia close to her. “Time to get rid of these.” she said, her hands barely touching the sunglasses.

“No.” Cordelia snapped, a crack appearing in her voice whille placing her hands on Misty’s hands and stopping her. She didn't want Misty to see how horrible her eyes looked. She didn't want her to see the red blood that flooded her swollen eyeballs, the blade marks on them. She momentarily remembered the moment the curving edge of the blade made contact with her. The pruning shears were heavy and strong for its size, but maybe it was Cordelia's weakness what had made that effect. “I don't want you to see it. At least not now.”

“Okay.” It was Cordelia's decision, and she would respect it. According to the old redheaded woman, Myrtle, it would take at least a week for the swelling to disappear. She could wait. “Dee, I love you. And I don't care how you look, if you have scars on your face or your eyes. I think you are beautiful, and I will always think that. You know what are we gonna do? I'm going to turn the lights off. I will close the windows.” doing it as she said. “I will make sure that we're on complete darkness, you can trust me. And then I'll get closer to you” being careful to not to stumble into any piece of furniture, she approached the woman's body, still standing in the middle of the room. “And I will take this” she got Cordelia's cane on her hands, “and this”, she took off the woman's sunglasses, “and I will put them next to the bed.”

“Okay...” the headmistress whispered, realizing that the witch was actually doing what she was narrating.

“And when everything is placed where it has to be, I will cup your face with my hands and kiss you. Slowly, really slowly.” she said, their noses were touching; their breaths melted.

And she did. She started kissing her in a delicate motion, her tongue slowly exploring the headmistress’ mouth. Cordelia closed her eyes, darkness into darkness, raising her arms and placing them around the witch’s neck. They stood there kissing for a moment, before slowly starting to move towards the bed. Misty gently pushed Cordelia on it, causing the woman to laugh. Quickly, the swamp witch took off her dress and threw it on the floor and felt Cordelia pulling her on top of her. Cordelia’s breath started to feel heavy with anticipation, feeling Misty’s hand finding its way underneath her dress. She felt her fingers running up from her knee, caressing the soft skin of her thigh. The feeling stopped, causing Cordelia to sigh with despair, only to find Misty’s hand’s unbuttoning her dress. The young witch stopped again, only to rip it off. Cordelia laughed again, finding adorable how eager Misty was, and pulled her right in to another kiss. Both of them were far from hesitant, tangling their tongues together again and again.

Both of them knew that they had no time to lose; that could be their last night together. And they didn’t want to waste it.

* * *

Cordelia sighed. She couldn’t wait to see Misty. She considered going upstairs and disrupting in the witch’s room, but she knew that Myrtle had put a spell on the door so it couldn’t be opened.  _Dammit._ Instead, she decided to go to the greenhouse, her safety room, her comfort zone. She still had the swamp witch in her mind. Misty had spent half of the night making love to her, and the other half telling her how beautiful she was. Leaning on the greenhouse counter, and after preparing the potion utensils to be on the right spot, she started adding lavender drops to one of the potions she had been making the last day. Instantly, she felt the presence of another witch in the room.

“Don’t be scared, it’s me.” Aunt Myrtle said. “I have to talk with you.”


	6. Sunset

“What do you want?”

“I'm scared for you, Cordelia. Look, I know that your mother has not been the mother you deserved to be her mother, and I know that she's been driving you crazy for years, but I think that she loved you.”

“Why are you talking about her now? She's dead, she's gone.”

“That's why I'm having this talk with you. When the Axeman tried to attack us and  you knew that your mother was dead, you didn't cry. You didn't seem to be sad, only surprised. I don't know if you were in shock, but I don't want you to not to say anything and then do something stupid. We both know what happened the last time.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrow with a serious face. _Of course I know that. I stabbed my own eyes to save this coven, to save the young witches that despise me, and then it was revealed to me that my sacrifice and the pain it caused to me was useless. My mother, instead of telling me that when I recovered my sight, played with me once again. She didn't even come to see me after that._ “I know that. I'm not that fool anymore. But the thing is, Myrtle, I don't feel sad because my mother is dead. She has never loved me, you know? She felt forced to love me, as a mother loves her daughter, but it wasn't real love. I was a burden for her, and you know that. She wanted to get rid of me, the same way that she wanted to get rid of every potential Supreme of this coven. She has never loved me. She abandoned me, leaving me alone here. The only contact that I had with her was when she sent me those useless, unconfortable and expensive dresses for christmas, dresses that I never wore because they weren't my size. She didn't come to my wedding. She didn't come when I learnt that I couldn't have kids. She didn't even come to see me when I fucking stabbed my eyes out!”

“That's not true.”

“What?”

“She did come to see you.”

“Liar.”

“She did. I told her to not to disturb you, that you needed to rest.”

“And you didn't ask her to stay until I woke up?”

“She disappeared before I could tell her that. But, Cordelia, haven't you thought that maybe she considered you a potential Supreme? I usually don't talk in Fiona's favor, but maybe she cared about you, maybe still had hopes about you.”

“No. She never trusted me and she never loved me. And she was right in doing so. I'm not the next Supreme, that's it. I don't possess any of the Seven Wonders, Myrtle.”

“Or maybe you just haven't shown them. Have you even tried descending? It's strange how our powers work, not showing until the right moment. Like your second sight, for example. It came just in time to see how Hank had cheated on you.”

“You should totally make badges. _Cordelia for Supreme_.” the woman snapped with irony.

“I am not the only one who thinks that. Cecily, Quentin, and even that little girl who could hear our thoughts. They used to think that too.”

“Cecily and Quentin are dead. And Nan wanted to be the next Supreme herself.”

“Like you, she started feeling that she wasn't enough. What a shame she slipped on the bath.”

“It wasn't an accident, right?” Cordelia asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, that murder had Fiona's mark on it.”

“I always rooted for her. She was so smart, she always tried to use her skills to make good. She was the Supreme this coven needs.”

“I know another smart, good girl who is still alive and is a potential Supreme...”

“You stop that. I've already told you that I'm not the one.”

“And I wasn't talking about you now.” the redhead said, looking to Cordelia's red eyes.

“Misty.”

“Yeah. For me, it's either you or her.”

“She's a powerful woman.”

“That's true. After all, it takes a lot to make you happy.”

“What?”

“Oh, Cordelia, I already know about you two. Poor Nan asked me if I could put a spell on her room so she didn't have to hear your feelings for each other.” Cordelia didn't realize at first what the witch meant. The student's room was next to Misty's, which was next to hers. From that distance, she thought that Nan couldn't probably hear their thoughts, but they had totally underrated the girl. “It seems that both of you had cute thoughts about each other. She wanted to stop hearing them before they became naughty.”

“Oh God...”

“So my question is... what will you do if Misty dies during the Seven Wonders?”

“She's a wise woman. She will survive.”

“But what if she doesn't?”

Cordelia turned again and focused on the potion, not wanting to think of that. _Misty s strong, Misty is powerful. Misty won't die._ But she wasn't sure of that. _I love her, she can't die. She's my happy ending._

“I'm just saying, Cordelia, that there are hundreds of ways she can die while performing the Seven Wonders. Maybe she burns during pyrokinesis. Maybe she doesn't return from hell. Maybe-”

“Will you stop saying that she will die?!” Cordelia yelled while turning around. Myrtle flew through the room, her body hitting hard against the wall. Misty looked down to the place where her hand was supposed to be. She couldn't feel the woman's presence anymore. _What have I done? Did I kill her?_ “Myrtle?” The old woman didn't respond.  “Myrtle? Oh God, Myrtle, are you okay?”

“I wasn't wrong about you.” The woman had got up again, a smile on her face. A smile that Cordelia couldn't see.

“What?”

“Nothing, dear. Have a good day.”

The woman was gone, that was all that Cordelia knew. _What did she mean?_


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend listening to the 2009 Soundstage version of Beauty and the Beast by Stevie Nicks while reading this.

_Has anyone ever written anything for you?_

_And in your darkest sorrow did you ever hear me sing?_

_Listen to me now you know I'd rather be alone_

_Than be without you…_

Cordelia was in her room, wearing a shawl around her shoulders while whispering the song's lyrics. It had been two weeks since the day she discovered she was the Supreme. The new students had been divided by groups and were now moving to the different houses of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. With four mansions more on the city and fifty students in each of them, Miss Robichaux’s was now one of the most important academics institutions of the city. She could hear the girls laughing in the halls, all of them happy to meet more girls like themselves. Everything was like she had imagined. Except for one thing.

The thought of Misty not being there made Cordelia shiver. The girl’s ashes were on a small, golden vase displayed on the showcase of the bedroom, waiting for her to spread them somewhere. But Cordelia wasn't strong enough. She couldn't let her go. She still remembered how the woman had dissipated on her arms, how her soft smile had disappeared. Cordelia wished she had told her that she loved her once more, even though she had told her before starting to perform the Seven Wonders, in front of everyone. She heard a knock on the door that pushed her thoughts away. It was Kyle, dressed in his new uniform.

“Hello, Miss Goode. There’s a man outside who said that he comes to deliver the statue that you requested. I’ve already told him where to put it.”

“Does it look good?”

“It looks great, Miss.” he said with a smile. He exited the room and, with a subtle hand movement, she made the door close after him. She closed her eyes, knowing exactly where she needed to go. She teleported herself to the garden, where the white roses she had planted were starting to grow in a circle. In the middle of the bushes there was a white marble statue. She looked at it with a smile on her face, a tear running down her cheek. The statue, with her long hair covering her shoulders, was wearing a long dress and a shawl on her shoulders. She looked as if she was dancing and spinning, bringing happiness to the happiness. Cordelia looked at the statue’s face. Her eyes were closed and had a smile on her face, just like Misty did when she danced. Suddenly the headmistress felt free, as if there was no evil on the world, no pain on her heart. She could still hear Misty’s laugh when they were in the greenhouse, when she listened to Stevie, when she kissed her. She could still see her bright eyes, her sweet smile, and her golden hair. Cordelia lowered her gaze, reading the words written on a small, silver plaque under the girl’s feet.

_“You can't be your best self until you find your tribe.”_

“Misty.” Cordelia sighed, lifting her eyes to the sky. “Misty, it’s me. I know I’m probably interrupting one of your favorite Stevie’s songs, but I needed to talk to you. You brought happiness to me when I was in complete hell. You were the only person who understood what it was to be misunderstood. You saved me from me, my own worst enemy. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I don’t know if I’m ready to let you go. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to live without you. So please, if you can hear me, give a sign. Something. Tell me what I have to do.”

She noticed a soft wind on her face, but it was gone before she could say anything.

“Please. Please!”

Nothing happened. Cordelia was now kneeling on the grass, her hands fiercely grabbing her own dress. She spent some more minutes there before standing up and looking at the statue one more time. “I love you.” she whispered, wiping the tears that fell through her face. She turned and started to walk away, embracing herself with her arms while her long dress caressed the garden’s grass. She was crossing the front door when four words more appeared on the silver plaque.

_“And I found mine.”_


End file.
